


Intentionally Oblivious

by Obscure_ramblings



Category: The Witcher (TV), Wiedźmin | The Witcher - All Media Types
Genre: Anal Fingering, Anal Play, Anal Sex, Bottom Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia, Bottom Jaskier | Dandelion, Boys In Love, Boys Kissing, Come play, Crack, Developing Relationship, Friends to Lovers, Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia Has Feelings, Geraskier, Innuendo, Inspired by The Witcher, Jaskier | Dandelion Has Feelings, M/M, Oral Sex, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Smut, Top Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia, Top Jaskier | Dandelion, Unresolved Sexual Tension, Witchers Have Feelings (The Witcher), but only to start with, geralt is a tease
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-22
Updated: 2020-08-22
Packaged: 2021-03-06 18:22:17
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,602
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26053399
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Obscure_ramblings/pseuds/Obscure_ramblings
Summary: They’ve been travelling together for years but only in the last few weeks has Geralt started talking a little more about himself: his likes and dislikes, his past. Jaskier thought he’d relish the opportunity to learn more about the stoic witcher. The only problem is everything Geralt says is riddled with innuendo and Jaskier can’t tell if he’s doing it on purpose or completely oblivious. Having never gained any hint of a clue that Geralt might have a sexual interest in him, Jaskier doesn’t want to risk alienating his friend when he’s finally started opening up. But dear Melitele, if Geralt talks ONE MORE TIME about sliding it in deeper, Jaskier just might jump on him and start dry humping his insanely muscled thigh.In which Geralt has picked up on Jaskier’s attraction to him and is absolutely DTF but decides to provoke Jaskier into making the first move by delivering as many bold innuendos as he can think of while holding his face perfectly blank.
Relationships: Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia & Jaskier | Dandelion, Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia/Jaskier | Dandelion
Comments: 26
Kudos: 393





	Intentionally Oblivious

**Author's Note:**

> Yessss I've been working on this for weeks, got sidetracked by a plot bunny for a female!Geralt fic and finally circled back around to finish it. Shout out to JoyisaBike, who left me such lovely comments on "What's Your Damage" and even checked back in a while later to ask how my writing had been going for this story! Your comments absolutely added to my motivation to finish this fic; I really appreciate it <3
> 
> If you like it, please leave me a comment!

“Just spray it on me. I need to be good and wet.” Geralt’s deep baritone reached Jaskier where he stood on the rocky shore, causing him to choke on the sip of water he’d just taken from his flask. He cast a wide-eyed glance at Geralt, who was crouching nearby in a stream, rinsing off the gore from the grave hag he’d rousted from its lair near a burial mound a few miles east. 

Geralt flicked his long, pale hair back over his shoulder and held up a hand to halt Roach, who had been obligingly using her hooves to splash great gouts of water over the witcher. Picking up the bar of soap he’d positioned on a nearby rock before he stripped and entered the water, Geralt rubbed it into a lather and spread the foam up his arms and across broad shoulders littered with the scars he’d collected during his many monster-slaying ventures. Amber eyes met cornflower blue as he surveyed Jaskier and enquired, “Need some more practice to master the art of drinking water?”

Jaskier thumped himself on the chest once and then again, clearing his throat as he sought to avoid spraying the water he’d inhaled all over his only clean doublet and the fine linen chemise that lay beneath the unbuttoned overlayer. “I’m fine,” he wheezed, “Thanks ever so much for your concern.”

Geralt quirked a smile as he scooped handfuls of water over himself, rinsing off the suds, then stood swiftly, exiting the stream and enjoying the startled intake of breath Jaskier took at being suddenly confronted with his wet, naked form. “Jaskier, could you pass me a towel from the saddlebag?” 

“Oh, right, of course. I’ll just fetch that for you.” Jaskier tore his attention away from the water tracking down Geralt’s chest and spun around to locate the towel. He turned back to hand it to Geralt, immediately dropping his gaze and making direct eye contact with Geralt’s cock. Semi-hard and standing away from his obscenely muscled thighs, it was the bold evidence of how much he was enjoying teasing Jaskier. “Yes, so, here you are,” Jaskier mumbled, quickly handing the towel over before retreating and picking up his satchel, pretending to look through it for something so he wouldn’t be tempted to look over again and take in the witcher in all his unclothed glory.

Drying his hair off first, then proceeding down the rest of his body, Geralt faced towards Jaskier and lifted his left leg to position his foot on a rock so he could rub the towel over it. Once he was in position he said to Jaskier, “Your turn to wash up, then. Let me know if you’d like a helping hand when you slide in. So smooth and slippery, just there.”

Jaskier, who had turned when Geralt began speaking, again found himself with another eyeful of cock, showcased by powerful thighs. “Oh ho!” he practically shouted, “Ahem, sorry, I wasn’t expecting you to be quite so…on display there.”

A droplet of water descended from a strand of Geralt’s hair, sliding across his upper chest and skirting a nipple before bumping down his abs and becoming entangled in the darker hair that surrounded his groin. “Does it leave you feeling unfulfilled, Jaskier?” As the bard gaped at him without responding, Geralt continued, “A cold dip in the stream not quite up to your usual standards for bathing?” 

“Ohhh,” Jaskier replied, infusing the single syllable with great depth of meaning that clearly conveyed to Geralt his innuendos were hitting their mark but Jaskier hadn’t yet picked up on the fact that Geralt was phrasing the statements that way on purpose. “Uh, yes, I should probably rinse off. It’s been a few days since my last bath, at the inn in that town with the arachas.” 

The bard removed his doublet and shirt, then took a quick glance over at Geralt before shucking his pants and smallclothes, entering the water quickly with his back positioned to the witcher. The erection he’d been sporting in response to Geralt’s glorious muscle-bound form and enticing cock softened in the chill of the stream and Jaskier relaxed a little, then shivered as the chill of the water registered properly.

“It gets hard quickly,” Geralt said, in a conversational tone. “You’ll want to rub it with both hands.”

“Whaaaa?” Jaskier stuttered out, whipping his head around to look at Geralt, then trying to peek discreetly at his lap in case his erection had somehow reinstated itself and broken through the surface of the water without him noticing it happening.

“The soap,” Geralt replied, trying his best to suppress a grin in case Jaskier looked over at him again.

“Oh, of course, aha ha ha,” Jaskier laughed shortly, cursing under his breath in a combination of relief and frustration. Sparing a glance at Geralt, who wasn’t even looking in his direction—thanks so much, overactive imagination, Jaskier thought to himself—he picked up the soap and rubbed it between his palms, creating a lather to scrub himself down. 

***

Jaskier sighed, pursing his mouth in frustration. He’d gotten rather enthusiastic at the market and had purchased several items that now didn’t fit into his travelling satchel. He speculatively eyed the saddlebags draped across Roach’s back and opened his mouth to ask if Geralt would be willing to carry one or two of the purchases for him, but Geralt beat him to it. “Give it to me.”

“Oh, well, thank you, Geralt!” Jaskier replied, touched by the witcher’s thoughtfulness in noticing his dilemma. He handed one of the parcels over.

“No problem,” Geralt replied. He flipped the saddlebag open and tucked the heavy volume of poetry inside. “The fit inside is nice and snug.” As Jaskier paused to absorb that comment, Geralt continued, “Is there anything else you want to give me? I can take it. Thrust it in there.”

“Ahem,” Jaskier cleared his throat, trying not to read more into Geralt’s words than was truly there. “Yes, do you have room for this?” He held out a case containing set of wooden balls used to play a bowling game. They were a particularly lovely design, chased with a swirling floral motif that wound around the surface in a delicate pattern.

“Of course,” said Geralt, obligingly, gesturing for Jaskier to place the case in the saddlebag. Jaskier had to wiggle it a little to ensure the case wasn’t sticking out too far over the top, and Geralt began speaking again as he did so. “Go ahead and push it in there. Is it too big to fit? Try pulling back then sliding in to get it a little deeper.”

Jaskier complied, wondering again at Geralt’s recent increase in verbosity. It had been an unmatched delight for him when Geralt had started displaying more trust, opening up about himself in a way he never had over the past several years they’d been travelling companions. Jaskier had thought he’d welcome any and all disclosures from his very best friend and the unrequited object of his affections. The only issue was that nearly everything Geralt said could be construed in a sexual manner—but the witcher’s blank face and typical stoic body language led Jaskier to believe he wasn’t doing it on purpose. “Slide it in and get a little deeper?” he thought to himself, pondering the phrasing choice. No, he decided, it must just be Geralt’s manner of speaking. No point reading more into it than was actually there.

***

The room they’d rented for the evening was spacious. Jaskier stood near the bed, lacing up the cerulean blue doublet with fine silver stitching that he’d purchased at the market along with the book of poetry and the bowling game. He admired the way the thread glinted in the light of the fire that burned in the hearth, listening to the small sounds Geralt made from the corner of the room where he’d placed his saddlebags.

There was a rustle of cloth against skin as Geralt dressed, too, followed by an appraising hum. “I need your frank opinion, Jaskier. Do these emphasise my manhood overmuch?” There was a wicked glint in Geralt’s golden eyes as he surveyed the bard to see how his comment would go over.

By now Jaskier had started to anticipate Geralt investing every phrase with sexual references, but this was particularly blatant. Boldly asking Jaskier to look at his cock and comment on its position was too much. He spun to face the witcher. “Sweet Melitele, Geralt, you cannot actually be so intentionally oblivious.”

Finally reaching the point where his sexual frustration outweighed his need to make sure expressing his desires wouldn’t break their friendship, he threw out his arms and proclaimed, “Do you want to fuck me, or not? Because at this point I’m about to whip it out and wank all over the floor just to get some relief from the teasing you’ve been inflicting on me. And if you get in the firing line that absolutely wouldn’t stop me, and would, in fact, most likely draw out the sort of orgasm that results in me passing out in a puddle of come when my body is utterly drained of all its fluids owing to the sight of your obscenely muscled body moving towards me, even if that movement was aimed at choking the life out of me for my daring.” He gestured expressively throughout this speech in an attempt to convey his desperation.

Geralt stayed quiet throughout the rant, hands propped above the waistband of the obscenely tight pants he’d donned—which, Jaskier noted, did emphasise his manhood a whole lot, thank you very much to whoever had designed them. As Jaskier fell silent, chest heaving with the force of the emotions he’d just laid bare, Geralt dropped his arms and approached the bard.

His stalking gait and blank face gave Jaskier no advance warning as to his intentions before Geralt reached out with both hands and lifted the bard bodily off the floor, raising him up to eye level. He paused a brief moment, in which Jaskier had time to wonder if this was truly the end for him, before bringing their bodies together and slanting his mouth across Jaskier’s in a deep, filthy kiss full of wandering tongues and slick exploration. Jaskier sighed out his relief, wrapping his arms around Geralt’s neck and his legs around his hips, bringing his erection—turns out fear boners were a thing—into contact with the witcher’s solidly muscled midsection. 

“Oh, thank goodness! I was still halfway convinced those would be my final words—not that I regret the soliloquy, but to have died by your silver sword when mere inches away was the equally mighty sword between your thighs? Now that would be a tragedy.” Shamelessly rubbing his cock against Geralt’s abs, Jaskier pulled back long enough to suggest, “Let’s move this to the bed, shall we?”

Geralt let out a low laugh at Jaskier’s words, bearing his weight seemingly without effort as he walked them over to the bed and laid Jaskier out across the sheets. “Took you long enough to figure it out,” Geralt said wryly. “I thought the jig was up in the market, yet you still just gaped at me instead of making a move.”

“Can you blame me, when your resting murder face says, ‘Come near me and die’?” Jaskier exclaimed. “Wait. Were you planning to continue the build-up of these last weeks of teasing and taunting me until I confronted you? You were actually going to keep doing this for…for months, if it had taken me that long?” His hands kept busy as he spoke, stroking up Geralt’s chest to untie the laces that closed his shirt and pull it free of the waistband of his pants.

Geralt whipped his shirt over his head. “I’ve lived many years, Jaskier. In those years I’ve had a lot of time to gather a wide range of truly terrible innuendos. I certainly could have gone on for months had I not decided it was time to catch your attention with a more obvious statement,” Geralt replied. He divested Jaskier of his doublet and shirt, pulling both off in one swift move. Unlacing the bard’s trousers and the tie on his smallclothes, he gave Jaskier’s cock one firm stroke then used both hands to peel the fabric down over his legs and discard the clothing on the floor. 

Admiring the leanly muscled form laid out before him, tracking where the dark chest hair curled down Jaskier’s torso to spread wider at the base of his groin, Geralt reached for the laces on his new—exceptionally form-fitting—trousers and fought with the laces. They didn’t want to come free and he swore under his breath, yanking futilely before giving up and sliding a dagger out of his boot to slice through the knot. 

Freed at last, Geralt shoved his pants down, performing a little hip wiggle to help him get them past the point where his thigh muscles stretched the fabric. The movement set his cock swaying and Jaskier watched, hypnotised by the pendulum arc of its movement. His mouth watered. He sat up, reaching out a strong hand, callused from years of playing his lute, and gripped the hard flesh firmly, sliding up and down the length a couple of times as he mapped its dimensions. 

Geralt let out a low moan of enjoyment as he finally managed to peel his pants down far enough to stomp out of them and kick them out of his way. The clever fingers playing across his cock and deep blue eyes gazing up at him recaptured his attention. His gaze travelled down a little, zeroing in on the mobile mouth that had been the object of many of his fantasies. Jaskier’s lips had already turned a rather fetching red from their kisses, and Geralt leaned in, fusing their mouths together once more as he bore Jaskier back onto the bed.

When Jaskier’s back hit the sheets, he pulled free from the kiss, letting out a loud moan of enjoyment as Geralt moved to press their groins together. Jaskier wrapped a leg around the witcher’s own, thigh muscles bunching as he used this leverage to roll their hips together. 

Geralt responded with a low curse. “Fuck, Jaskier, the way you move.” He gripped Jaskier’s upper arms and rolled them across the mattress, positioning the bard above him so he was straddling Geralt’s hips. Now it was his turn to set up a rolling movement, eyes fixed on Jaskier’s expressive face, taking in the evident enjoyment the bard displayed as their bare cocks slid together, precome already slicking the way. 

“Geralt, I’m not going to last long. This has been weeks in the making, relieved only by an occasional quick wank in the bushes while you were off hunting our dinner. I. Need. More.” Jaskier’s silky voice emphasised the last words, making them a staccato.

“I know,” Geralt replied, “I could smell your come when I returned.” He pulled Jaskier down onto his broad chest so he could growl in his ear, “The scent made me hard.” The bard shivered in response to the tone and the words, then shoved himself off to the side, moving quickly to his satchel to extract a small bottle of oil. He hurried back to the bed, erection swaying before him and pointing the way as he took in the sight of Geralt, huge and aroused, laid out on the sheets like a veritable feast for the eyes. The witcher had raised a knee and rolled partway onto his side as he tracked Jaskier’s movements. Framed by heavy ballocks already starting to draw tight with arousal, his cock looked enormous. Jaskier couldn’t wait to have its hefty length inside him.

Pressing the bottle into Geralt’s hand, Jaskier lay himself down on his stomach, positioned at an angle so Geralt could slick him with the oil while he lavished attention on the witcher’s cock. He threw a saucy wink at Geralt as he leaned down to breathe a warm stream of air over his erection, enjoying the resulting jump and bounce of the hard flesh. 

As the first of Geralt’s strong, callused fingers penetrated him, oil smoothing the way, Jaskier arched his back. “Ooooh, yes. Another!” he commanded. Geralt obliged, sliding two fingers together and curving them around to press against Jaskier’s walls in a most delightful way. Wanting to reciprocate the pleasure, Jaskier lavished licks and tongue rolls along the length of Geralt’s erection. Judging by the twitch and flex he elicited and the deep moan Geralt let out, he was succeeding in his goal.

Geralt added a third finger, enjoying the slick slide and heat of Jaskier’s opening relaxing to accept him. “You’re taking me so well, Jaskier. Are you ready for my cock?” 

Jaskier felt his ballocks starting to draw close to his body at the praise and he quickly shuffled across the mattress, away from Geralt’s hand. He paused for a moment, slamming his eyes closed and panting as he fought to delay his orgasm. When he felt he had himself under control, he opened his eyes once more, only to find himself right on the precipice again.

Taking advantage of the pause to pour some oil into his palm, Geralt was now slicking it over his thick erection, the flushed head alternately hidden and revealed on each stroke. The sight had Jaskier absolutely riveted, blue eyes wide as they tracked the path of Geralt’s glistening hand. Geralt smiled, white teeth and sharp incisors flashing as he reached his free hand out to Jaskier. “Come now, Jaskier, you remember I like it good and wet, don’t you?” He chuckled to himself as his comment brought Jaskier back to himself, the bard’s miffed expression making it clear he was thinking back to the first of the innuendos Geralt had tried out. 

“You beast,” Jaskier replied, “Weeks; we could have been doing this for weeks already if it wasn’t for your silly games!” But the teasing was working to stave off the immediate threat of Jaskier coming before Geralt had even gotten inside him, and the bard sighed, appreciating the brief respite. He shuffled on his knees back over to witcher, leaning down and biting a nipple gently in revenge.

He hadn’t anticipated the full-body buck that would elicit, nor was he prepared for Geralt to let out a moan loud enough to draw attention from anyone within earshot of their room. Jaskier drew back, grinning, and made a mental note to lavish more attention on that sensitive spot in the near future. For now, though, he lightly pushed Geralt back to lie flat on the bed and straddled his hips, lifting his thick erection into position so Jaskier could press down on top of it. As the head breached his opening, Jaskier let out his own moan, loud enough to rival Geralt’s, “Oh, Geralt, yes!” 

Geralt hissed, fingers clamping down on Jaskier’s thighs. His body trembled, tensed with the effort of holding himself back long enough to give Jaskier time to adjust. The bard sucked in a deep breath and adjusted his angle, leaning forward a little to brace himself on Geralt’s chest with one hand then breathing out as he tilted his hips and slid all the way down to the base of Geralt’s cock.

There was a moment of pure pleasure in which both men absorbed the sensation of enveloping and being enveloped by the other, then Jaskier caught Geralt’s mouth in a messy kiss and the witcher began thrusting his hips. Jaskier shifted in counterpoint to Geralt’s rhythm, occasionally missing a beat as he adjusted to moving together with the witcher in a new way. He slid a hand across Geralt’s chest, pressing against a nipple as he did so, and eliciting a further flurry of thrusts that left him panting breathlessly. 

Geralt rocked against Jaskier, bombarded from all sides by sensation. The scent of Jaskier’s arousal thick in his nostrils, underlaid by sweat and oil. The sight of the bard’s flushed skin and red mouth. The taste of him like sweet honey on Geralt’s tongue. The sound as he panted out Geralt’s name, interspersed with moans and brief words of encouragement when Geralt changed angle slightly and pressed against Jaskier’s walls in a different way. The feel of him clenching around Geralt’s cock, pressed deep inside and stretching him wide open. 

“Are you close?” Geralt growled in a low voice. Upon seeing Jaskier’s nod of affirmation and the lip the bard was biting down on, Geralt unleashed himself, drawing up his knees to provide further leverage for a series of thrusts that culminated in a deep grinding as he held Jaskier in place against his groin, releasing a deep growl of pleasure as he came deep inside his bard.

Taking in the feel of Geralt’s hard body tensing around him and within him, Jaskier watched the witcher’s face tighten and then released a laugh of pure delight. He gripped his cock and stroked once, twice, three times, then slammed his eyes closed and moaned as several ropes of thick white come jetted out to spread across the muscled expanse of Geralt’s lower belly and abdominals. Falling forward as his muscles gave out, Jaskier landed directly in the warm spend, plastering their chests together. He let out a deep sigh and enjoyed the sensation of Geralt’s chest rising and falling as the witcher caught his breath and his heartbeat slowed to its usual beat, at about a third the rate of the average human’s.

***

The blowsy scent of sex drifted in the air as Jaskier lay sprawled on top of Geralt’s body, using him as a pillow and scattering occasional kisses against whatever body parts he could reach. Geralt had one of his hands tucked under his head, fingers threaded through his pale hair. The other was trailing up and down Jaskier’s lower back, occasionally dipping down to slide over the round curve of Jaskier’s ass and down through the come that slicked his balls. Each time this elicited a delicious shiver from Jaskier, Geralt smiled a little, enjoying the movement as Jaskier’s semi-hard cock rubbed against his own. The bard lifted his head to meet Geralt’s lazy amber gaze. “Feeling pretty pleased with yourself, aren’t you?”

Geralt smiled wider and nudged one of Jaskier’s legs up a little so he could slide two fingers into him this time, drawing a moan in response. “Hmmm, yes,” he admitted. “Again?” He asked, raising an eyebrow. At Jaskier’s look of surprise, he let out a short huff of laughter. “After all this lead up, surely you don’t think once would be enough?” Then he hissed a breath in through his teeth and tensed his stomach muscles as Jaskier grinned devilishly, licking at Geralt’s nipple, then gently biting it.

“Oh ho,” the bard crowed with glee, “A sensitive spot! How delightful. I promised myself I would investigate further so let’s see...” He proceeded to lavish attention on each nipple, alternating between lips, tongue and teeth to find out which combination would exact the greatest reaction from Geralt.

After a few short minutes, Geralt was helplessly thrusting his hips up, grinding his cock into Jaskier’s torso. In one swift movement, he flipped Jaskier over to lie on his back and rolled across the mattress to retrieve the bottle of oil. “This time it’s my turn to feel you inside me,” he growled, pouring a layer across his fingers. He pressed two thick, glistening digits against his clenching hole and pumped them in and out a few times. 

Jaskier lay, mouth hanging open, taking in the sight of the witcher stretching himself open, pale eyebrows drawn together and facial muscles clenching then relaxing as he adjusted to the stretch. The flex of muscle that accompanied Geralt’s movements caused Jaskier’s cock to bob and twitch, becoming unbearably aroused by the tableau. “If you want me to last longer than a moment, you’d better hurry this up,” he said.

In response, Geralt threw him a quick half-smile then moved to straddle Jaskier’s lap, sliding the cleft of his ass along the length of the bard’s cock a few times to spread the excess oil over him, then reaching back to position it against his entrance, bearing down to take him in one smooth motion. “Dear, sweet, Melitele above! Fuck. Fuck.” Jaskier choked out, utterly undone by the feel of Geralt surrounding him, heat and rippling walls milking his length as Geralt clenched tightly against the initial intrusion. The witcher released a deep breath and consciously relaxed, staring down at Jaskier with his golden cat’s eyes.

Then Geralt said, “I want to ride you. Feel the stretch and burn as you spread me wide.” And Jaskier’s brain simply ceased functioning. He found himself without words to convey how very much he wanted that too, completely absorbed by the man atop him as Geralt set up a steady lift-and-drop rhythm, thigh muscles flexing as he took Jaskier’s cock deep inside himself, then rose up in a slick slide.

Running a hand along the inside of Geralt’s thigh, Jaskier reached down to press a firm thumb below the heavy balls, massaging in a small circle. At Geralt’s grunt of pleasure, he used his free hand to grasp the witcher’s erection just under the flared head, stroking the smooth skin upwards then back down just far enough for the tip to peek out from his grasp. 

Geralt clenched tightly around Jaskier’s penetrating flesh, the dual sensations of having his cock stroked and his prostate massaged pushing him ever closer to the brink. Jaskier found his voice once more, lavishing filthy praise on everything from the tight heat of Geralt’s ass to the silky hair that rippled down over one shoulder. “Ohhh yes, move just like that, Geralt. Can you feel how you’re surrounding me? We fit so well. Can you take more of me?”

Picking up the pace of his thrusts, Jaskier matched the tempo with the hand he had gripped around the straining length of Geralt’s cock. He tilted his hips just a little and twisted his palm around the head of Geralt’s cock, then let out a choked sound as the witcher clamped down tight around him.

Throwing his head back and gritting out Jaskier’s name, Geralt’s orgasm crashed over him and his come striped across Jaskier’s abdomen in thick, white rivulets. He leaned forward, catching himself on a hand pressed next to Jaskier’s head and pressing an open-mouthed kiss against the strong column of his neck. As Geralt sucked a mark just beneath Jaskier’s ear, the bard thrust several times in static succession and came deep inside Geralt, both hands gripping tight to the witcher’s thighs and teeth bared as he panted for air.

Coming down from the high of his orgasm, Jaskier wrapped his arms tightly around Geralt and rolled them to lie on their sides, facing towards each other. He let out a happy exhalation and kissed Geralt lightly, flicking his tongue playfully over the witcher’s full lower lip. “That exceeded any and all expectations I’d been harbouring. Wow!”

Geralt smiled, eyes creasing in the corners and lids lowering as he luxuriated in the feeling of complete satiation. Between one breath and the next, he slipped into sleep, lips parting as he relaxed. Jaskier looked fondly at the dark eyelashes fanned above Geralt’s cheeks and pressed one more sweet kiss against the corner of his mouth. “Sleep well, my love,” he whispered.


End file.
